


A forced friendship

by NovemberWings



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Absent Parents, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bullying, Confusion, Fear, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Loneliness, M/M, Modern Era, Poverty, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Trust Issues, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-05-14 03:09:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19264729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovemberWings/pseuds/NovemberWings
Summary: Spot transferred to Pulitzer high not so long ago and the power structures of the school were clear - the Delancys ruled with an iron fist. So Spot did what he had to do to survive - he became a bully, in league with the Delancys, but deep down he knew that he wasn't being himself. He was better than this.One day the head, Ms. Medda, calls him into the office and tells Spot that he has to befriend a lonely boy called Racetrack Higgins, who Spot knows to be the Delancys' scapegoat and favourite to pick on.How was this going to work?





	1. Chapter 1

Spot kept rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans as he waited in the head teachers office. He daren’t move since she could walk in any second and he had been instructed by the office lady to ‘stay put’. He was in enough trouble as it is. He had been carrying Oscar’s weed and one of the teachers had spotted it – hadn’t wanted to carry it but when Oscar asked you to do something he wasn’t asking.

The door swung open to reveal a stern looking Ms. Medda. She walked around to the opposite side of the desk and took a seat – staring silently and intensely at him. He could feel himself sweating more.  
“Sean,” she sighed heavily, “I’m really upset that you were carrying drugs in my school. Especially you! I don’t expect that off you.” She looked down at her desk – genuinely looking quite sad.  
“I know, Ms. Medda. I’m awful sorry.” He really was, now it was his time to look down – him in shame, her in disappointment.  
“I know you’re sorry, Spot, but rules are rules, and rules are there for a reason – not to be broken as the saying goes. You know I can’t permit this or let it slide.” Spot nodded, unable to look her in the eye. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me where the drugs really came from are you?” He shook his head – snitches got more than stiches if they crossed Oscar or Morris Delancy, even if they considered you a friend. Medda sighed again.  
“Sorry, Ms. Medda.” He wanted to tell her and get Oscar out of this school, but then that left Morris and Oscar would be back after a few weeks anyway and he wasn’t about to turn his friends – protectors – into his enemy.  
“No, I understand Spot. I’m just sad that’s the way it is. Well, I have no choice but to suspend you for a week.” Spots heart simultaneously dropped into his stomach and shot into his mouth at the word ‘suspend’. He couldn’t be suspended if he wanted to get into the university he wanted to go to!  
“Ms. Medda please. Please don’t suspend me! Anything else, but please don’t suspend me!”  
“Spot -” She sighed his name but he interrupted her – he needed to plead his case.  
“Ms. Medda if I get suspended I won’t be able to go to the university I want to go to and then I’ll end up stuck here forever! And then I might end up dealing drugs for real! You can’t endorse that. Please it was a mistake. I didn’t give anyone the drugs or even take them myself! Please! Anything else, absolutely anything!” He exclaimed, extremely close to tears. This woman had his future in her fist and she could either crush it to dust or let it free.  
“Anything?” Medda asked raising an eyebrow.  
“Anything!” He exclaimed, maybe she would let him off.  
“Okay. How about this: I won’t suspend you, but you’ll be in detention until Christmas?” Spot nodded eagerly.  
“Absolutely! I can do that!” Christmas was only 3 months away and detention wasn’t even that bad – his grades might go up with him being forced to stay an extra hour as well. “Thank you, Ms. Medda! You don’t know how grateful I am that -” She held up a hand indicating to him silently to stop talking. He had never fallen so silent and so frightened so quickly.  
“And…” She paused for a beat, “one more thing.”  
“What?” Spot asked… scared of what she was going to add on.  
“Do you know Antonio Higgins, he’s in your year.” Spot paused. The name sounded similar but he couldn’t place a name to a face. The lack of comprehension must have shown on his face because Medda clarified, “he’s mainly called Race?” A lightbulb flashed on in his brain – he knew Race but he was suddenly filled with anxiety about what Race had to with him.  
“Yes…” He replied reluctantly.  
“Well I’ve noticed that he’s alone a lot and when he is with other people it seems to be… let’s say negative attention.” She gave a little bow of her head and Spot knew exactly what she was talking about – Race was picked on and bullied, especially by Oscar and Morris, and he didn’t really have any friends, at least he never saw him with anyone. Spot nodded, indicating for Medda to continue and that he was following her. “I want you to be his friend. Spend time with him. Get to know him.”

Spot’s mouth fell open. He couldn’t be friends with Race! Oscar would lose his mind – he hated Race with a passion, Spot didn’t know why… all the drama happened before he transferred here but he never wanted to ask and get on anyone’s bad side.  
“Are you serious?” He asked Medda, who was watching him with a very measured expression on her face. She nodded, no hint of a joke gleaming in her eye. “You’re going to punish me by forcing me to be friends with Racetrack?” Medda shook her head.  
“No. You’re taking this completely the wrong way, Sean. I’m punishing you with detention until Christmas – that’s a punishment, something unpleasant. However, I am inspiring you to right your wrong by doing a good deed alongside your mandatory, state enforced punishment. Sean, you know what you did was wrong, why not do something right? Something kind. Like the boy I know you are. Why not be friends with Antonio – he’s a nice person.” She paused as he continued to stare at her disbelievingly, “and don’t forget, I’m not forcing you to do anything. You have two options I don’t mind which you choose – but I know which one I’d prefer.” She said smiling a little, Spot scoffed;  
“So you’re going to blackmail me with the threat of suspension? Seriously?” She scoffed in return, he wasn’t sure if it was genuine or if she was mocking him.  
“Sean I’m not asking if you want to be waterboarded or beaten. You’re a nice person. Since you’ve made friends with… certain folks here you’ve changed. And I understand that you need to do what you need to do but you really need to think about if who you are now is actually who you are. Think about that.” 

The office fell into silence. Spot felt utterly naked and vulnerable. He thought he played the part of the ruthless bully well, but apparently not. He hoped that she was the only one able to see through his act.  
“But,” She broke the silence, “I need an answer now, Sean. What do you want to do? Have a week suspension or the detention and befriend Antonio?” Spot sighed as he knew that his choice wasn’t a choice.  
“I’ll take detention.” Medda smiled at him, as if proud.  
“I’ll put those detentions in the system then.” He nodded. “You can go.” She said, he picked his bag up off the floor and headed for the door, he had his hand on the handle when she spoke again. “Oh, and Spot,” he turned his body to face her, “He’s nearly always sitting at the back of the library. I’ll know if you’re not holding up your end of the deal.” She said sternly and Spot nodded – she always slightly scared him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> I've had this fic saved for a while because uploading long stories stresses me out! But I wrote a long newsies fic a while ago and had a lot of fun doing so. I've got a couple chapters saved so I'm going to do my best to keep uploads regular, but so far I'm enjoying this story and got some good stuff planned.  
> Hope you guys enjoy this and would like to stay tuned so we can enjoy this story together!  
> Plus, I'm so happy to be making newsies content again. It's been so long!
> 
> Please leave a comment telling me what you think of the story concept, let's have a chat.


	2. Chapter 2

Spot stomped down the hallway – his bully mask firmly back in place – fully cursing his life with many extreme expletives in his head. The hallways parted for him, which he was now used to, all though that was one of the biggest shocks when he had become friends with the Delancy’s after he had transferred to Pulitzer high.

He was angry. Very angry. How dare she presume she can dictate who he is friends with! But what made him angry is that she could and that’s precisely what she was doing. He didn’t know how this was going to work. He couldn’t actually befriend Race. There was no chance – he didn’t have anything against him, didn’t know anything about him really, but it just wasn’t done. Oscar would kill him. Sure he felt sorry for Race when the Delancy’s cornered him and teased him – and yeah they took it a little far sometimes by actually punching him hard or stealing something but it’s not like it was bad enough he needed to step him.

One time the three of them had cornered Race, usually there were other members of the Delancy gang when they decided to do something like that so Spot could normally stand at the back and not join in or get noticed, but when there had only been the three of them – Oscar, Morris and himself – he had to join in or risk looking soft, then that would have caused problems for him. He had decided that Race could handle it and threw a gut punch – nothing too hard, he wasn’t trying to actually hurt him but he needed it to seem believable. He felt awful about it but in his life he had come to realise it was them or you. 

Medda was right when she had said that the person he is on the outside isn’t actually who he is. On the inside he was kind and caring – he wanted to help Race, but recognised it was suicide to do so. He didn’t want to be the victim, he didn’t want to move schools again and have to relearn every social structure and who was who. He didn’t want to move and fall behind on his studies again. Spot’s plan was clear. Play along with Oscar and Morris’ sick bullying games and get through the exams – get the grades he needed then he would be off to college out of the state – where no one would know him. Then he would be true to who he was. Find people and friends like him and express himself. He would be open. But not yet – high school wasn’t for that.

But Medda had just come along and threw a wrench into his plan! How dare she! He was going to have to figure this out.

He was just starting to think about how it would be possible to befriend Race, and not get suspended, whilst also keeping his alliance, or ‘friendship’ with the Delancys when and arm was thrown around his neck. He didn’t flinch. He never flinched, no one in this school would dare to touch and hurt him. He looked up. It was Morris.  
“What she do then?” He asked – obviously referring to Medda. They both know that he got pulled in for their drugs, Oscar had been pissed when he found that the weed he bought had been confiscated.  
“Well…” He sighed, Oscar appeared the other side of him, “you’re seriously not going to believe this.” He let his anger show through his voice.

He recounted what his punishment was and watched their faces closely, he didn’t mention that he had had a choice. He was watching Morris who’s face had twisted into an angry snarl.  
“That bitch! What the fuck! You’re not actually going to be friends with Racetrack are you?” Spot didn’t know what to say to that and just paused, feeling his heart start to pound and then to his complete and utter surprise Oscar came to his rescue.  
“Wait wait wait.” His head snapped around, expecting to see the same angry grimace on Oscar’s face, but he saw a cruel grin – he didn’t know which one was worse to be honest. “We could use this.” He said as they reached maths.  
“How do you mean?” Spot frowned, he had run a few scenarios through his head about possible reactions Oscar could have to this situation and this had not been one of them.  
“I mean we can use this to pull the best prank ever!” He whispered loudly, clearly getting excited. “You can go an’ befriend Higgins.” Spot nodded following so far. “Get him to trust you. Get him to like you. Get him to think of you as his friend. Higgins has no friends – he’s probably desperate knowing the pathetic little shit and then swoops along Spot Conlon.” He made a gliding motion with his hand. “Then,” the cruel smile had spread so much it looked like he was wearing one of those masks from The Purge, it was truly frightening, “when he thinks his finally found a friend, someone he can trust, we’ll rip the floor out from under him! Tell him you were acting all along and then you can beat the living shit out of him! It will completely emotionally break him. It’ll be the last straw – having everything ripped away from him!” He let out an ecstatic laugh clapping his hands together once and rubbing them – looking like a Disney villain. How does a mind even think something like this up? Spot’s brain screamed, but he forced his face to mirror Oscar’s wild smirk.  
“It’s perfect!” Morris agreed, “he will actually have trust issues for the rest of his life!” He said it with such glee it made Spot’s stomach churn and the only think Spot could think was; ‘Keep acting! Keep acting! Him or you! Him or you!’ Spot laughed to mirror Oscar who was seriously thinking he was a genius right now.

The previous class started herding out of their maths’ classroom – indicating that it was time for them to go in. They started shuffling in when Oscar quickly added – still intoxicated with glee;  
“Plus. He might even tell you some personal things along the way that we can use to our advantage or to completely humiliate him, if we’re lucky and you play your cards right. This is going to be so much fun, Spotty.” He affectionally grasped Spot’s shoulder as he sat down.

Spot stared forward and tried to concentrate on maths knowing that it is one of his worst subject but he couldn’t. There was one thing in his mind that just kept screaming at him;  
Him or you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ghaa I mean the Delancys were never going to be good, but this is overly-mean.  
> Also I promise Race will be in the next one!


	3. Chapter 3

Spot jogged up the stairs to the library. It was lunch and he was guessing that Race would be at the back of the library, like Medda had said. Despite pretty much knowing 100% that Race would be there he prayed to whatever God he could think of that Race wouldn’t be there – hoping to procrastinate this evil scheme at least for a day.

All morning Oscar and Morris had coached him on what to say to him and what not to say or do to him. ‘You have to be flawless.’ ‘He can’t know that this isn’t real or it won’t work.’ He took a deep breath, thoughts swirling in his head like a tornado. The words of the Delancy’s and Medda following in his shadow. It had been so long since he had been kind…

He pulled the door to the library open and unsurprisingly the library was practically empty. The librarian, who had glanced up when Spot had entered – looking surprised at his presence, was sitting at the main desk and there was one student using one of the computers with his headphones in. Perfect. Not too many people.

‘At the back of the library’ Medda had said. He wasn’t accustomed to the library having been in it once – for his ‘Welcome to Pulitzer’s’ tour – and he didn’t know his way round at all. The shelves were high and stacked in complicated rows meaning a lot of the library was hidden from sight. He walked around the selves, and despite the library not being that big, he felt himself getting a little lost amongst the books.

Eventually after a few minutes of searching he found Race sitting in the very back corner that was hidden by three shelves – almost as if he had arranged them himself to hide his little cubby hole. It looked quite cosy in there, just Race in his over sized jumper at the round table covered in papers, an open book and an assortment of coloured pens and highlighters.

Race was lost in his work, obviously he wasn’t expecting anyone – why would he be? And Spot felt guilty invading his little corner – which he most definitely saw as a safe place, but what else could he do?

He slipped into the cornered off area and Race must have seen his movement as he glanced up at Spot before looking back down at his work and doing a quick double take. His eyes grew wide with fear as he recognised who Spot was – of course he would know him. Race shot up, pushing his chair back as he stood. He stepped out from the table and took a step back holding his hands up in a placating gesture – hands that were slightly shaking.  
“Please,” He said quietly, looking at Spot with pleading eyes, “I don’t want trouble. Please don’t hurt me. I’ll take my stuff and go.” Spot had a realisation that he had never even heard Race talk before, other than ‘present’ in whatever classes he had with Race. Race was softly spoken, and his voice trembled a little, obviously with fear and anxiety of being trapped in a corner with a notorious bully.  
“Relax.” Spot held up a hand and shook his head, trying to be as soothing as possible, “I’m not here to cause trouble. Don’t worry.” Race hesitated a moment before sitting back down in his chair stiffly. Spot sat opposite him. Race stared at him in a terrified silence, not moving to tuck his chair back under the table or continue his work. 

“What you doing here then?” Spot asked, gesturing to all the books and paper. Race stopped looking at him, clearly choosing to have this conversation with his lap rather than to look at Spot.  
“Sociology.” It was barely audible.  
“Oh.” Spot said, not really knowing anything about sociology. “Is that your favourite subject or…” He was trying to get Race to relax and talk – it was the first part of their plan.  
“What are you doing? What do you want?” Race asked, somehow tensing even further.  
“Nothing.” Spot shrugged. “I don’t know… to chat?” Race looked up at him sceptically before shaking his head, not necessarily at Spot but more at himself.  
“Just please. Get on with whatever you want to do.” He had a begging tone to his voice, and it made Spot want to gag, but he supposed it should be natural of Race to be so suspicious of him.  
“Seriously, Race. I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t want to cause trouble. I just thought we could chat.” He tried offering a little smile, but Race’s tense and cold exterior didn’t crack – obviously not fooled. Race opened his mouth clearly to speak but closed it again, waiting for Spot to take the conversation. Spot suddenly realised that he had nothing to say – so they sat in an awkward silence. Race was too scared to speak and Spot had no idea what to say to make Race drop his defences. After a few more beats of silence Race dared to speak;  
“I know this is a joke so can you just get on with it?” He said definitely, like there was no changing his mind that there was a con going on – of course there was but he needed to convince him there wasn’t anything funny happening.  
“There’s no joke, Race, I just wanted to talk to you!” He exclaimed exacerbated. There was another second of silence, and just as Spot was going to have a second attempt at small talk Race got there just a second before him.

“Please. Just what do you want.” Race asked his voice wobbling a little and Spot felt a rush of anger shoot down his spine. He said he didn’t want any trouble! What couldn’t Race understand about that? He was actually so angry at Race not trusting him and essentially insinuating that he was a liar. At this point time, yeah, Spot was lying but it didn’t mean he wanted to be accused of lying by one Racetrack Higgins. He didn’t mean to allow the bully to take over but he reverted back into self-preservation mode, and when he was in his bully persona he was safe – because right now Race was seeing him awful clearly, and he couldn’t have that.

He hit his open palm of the table to release some to anger, he never had actually wanted to hit another person and that wasn’t about to change, but he had to hit something. It made a loud band making Race flinch back and draw into himself tightly. His shoulders raised, his head ducked looking into his laps, his arms circled around his ribs. The sight made Spot sick – knowing that it was more than his reputation making Race do that, it was his actual actions. But he had started an act he needed to finish it.  
“For fucks sake.” He muttered under his breath, but he knew that Race could hear him. He turned on Race with a devil’s glare; “You know. I don’t appreciate you calling me a liar – I said I don’t want nothing! I said I don’t want no trouble! Yet you keep harping on the same note.” He hissed viciously before letting out a sarcastic bark of a laugh, “You know, I was trying to do a good thing and be nice to you but now I won’t bother.” He stared at Race who had gone stiff and tense.  
“I’m sorry.” He whispered, and whilst the apology sounded genuine Spot knew that it wasn’t. It wasn’t the apology of someone upset that had just offended a potential friend, it was the apology of someone that had been beaten into submission. It was the apology of someone who’s first language is just a string of apologies for existing.  
It wasn’t even an apology, when Spot really thought about it, it was a plea. It was a plea to be left alone, begging for Spot to just leave and not hurt him.

Spot suddenly felt queasy at the realisation that his actions had made a completely innocent person completely terrified of him. The least Spot could do was give him what he wanted.

Wordlessly Spot stood up and left without affording Race another look. Despite the guilt tearing at his gut Spot knew that he was going to have to try again, both for Medda and the Delancys, but now he knew a little more about how to approach him.

But things still hadn’t changed; its him or me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Race! He's so hurt!  
> I promise Spot will get better at talking to Race and Race will get better at talking to Spot. So that's something to look forward to!


	4. Chapter 4

Race stared after Spot when he had just suddenly stood up at left. He sat for a moment tense, eyes wide waiting for the Delancys to jump out and beat the shit out of him. After 3 minutes of nothing but silence he started to relax when he figured out that if anything was going to happen it would have already happened.

He looked down to his papers on the table, that hadn’t been disturbed in the slightest, and then at Spot’s chair which had been pushed back.  
What had just happened?

He knew Spot. He hung around with the two Earthly devils of the school; Oscar and Morris Delancy. Spot had transferred from another school about a year ago and had been trouble since the beginning. Race knew he wasn’t going to suddenly have a friend in Spot, he didn’t have any friends at school and to be honest he didn’t blame any one for not wanting to be his friend – he was sure that if he were anyone else he wouldn’t choose to put himself on the bad side of the Delancys either. But he had just expected Spot to either keep to himself and fade away from Race’s mind, like most other new kids, or find a friendship group and fade away from Race’s mind. But neither of those things happened.

Spot looked scary. He was small, but he was buff and he had a face that let you know precisely what would happen if you pissed him off – and Race didn’t need to experience that to know he wasn’t going to like it. The rumour was that he had been kicked out of his old school for knocking some kid’s teeth out, and Spot didn’t do anything to deny those rumours. All of this meant he was a perfect contender to be in the Delancys’ little gang. The Delancys had enough power in this school to get anyone to do what they wanted, but having a 5 foot 4 piece of muscle following them where ever they went helped massively.

Race got beat up a lot, but he would never forget when Spot had decided to join in that one time. Mostly Spot stands and watches but doesn’t do anything, and Race presumed that he was there to stop him from running away if he somehow got the chance. It had only been Oscar and Morris, and Rae was used to them by now and how exactly they liked to hurt him, but to his horrified surprise Spot had decided he wanted to have a go as well, with some encouraging from the Delancys.

Spot had grabbed his lapels and pulled him off the floor onto his feet, before holding his shoulder and delivering a gut punch that simultaneously made him loose his breath and his vision blur. He had let out a pathetic little cough before Spot had pushed him to the floor, completely paralysed from breathlessness, allowing Oscar to continue his sick little pain game.

Meaning that when Spot joined the school, he didn’t fade out of Race’s mind, like most kids do, but more that he became a third walking nightmare for him.

Now that the fear of violence had faded away confusion took hold. Why had Spot tried that tactic? The Delancys could beat him up any time they wanted, they didn’t need Spot to try and be his friend. And would they seriously go to the effort to conjure this up as a joke? A way of tricking him into thinking he has a friend? It seemed like way to much effort. Plus they didn’t exactly seem like people who held value in delayed gratification – in this case gratification being Race’s pain.

However, Race knew for a fact that he had pissed Spot off and he wasn’t looking forward to the repercussions of that either. And as that thought infected his brain he felt a wave of sadness wash over him.

He couldn’t sit in his little library corner any more.

He had assumed that the Delancys didn’t even know that this is where he was. Every lunch, break and free period he sat in his little back corner. He took a sad look around his little closed square that he knew he had to evacuate if he didn’t want to be harassed every lunch.

It had taken a lot of work to convince the librarian to let him rearrange the book cases so he could have a hidden and closed off section; a lot of staying after school and sorting the dewy decimal system and reading with children in the younger years who were struggling (that he didn’t mind so much). 

He had personalised his corner too! He had managed to get books that were specific to his subjects and arrange them around him – so they were right there when he needed them. It was prohibited to eat or drink in the library and the corner offered him the privacy to have a sip of some water or nibble a cereal bar if he was super hungry, which he wasn’t often.  
But most importantly, it offered a hiding place. This school had a massive, well stocked, library that went completely unused by 98% of the school, and his corner was so well hidden that it was actually quite difficult to find. The book selves all start to look the same if you don’t know your way around and there was no chance you could see if something was out of the ordinary if you just peeked in through the doors. You wouldn’t even be able to see the two book shelves at an inconvenient right angle from 90% of the library – especially if you weren’t looking. Which meant that when anyone was looking for him, to pick on for a laugh, he would be incredible difficult to find, even if they had figured out he was in the library.

Race had figured that the Delancys knew that he spent most of his time in the library but never really bothered to come and seek him out there, knowing that they would be able to grab him in the corridor, after class, or on his way home – which was all a lot more convenient anyway. 

The only downside to Race’s corner was that it was a corner. He couldn’t escape anywhere if someone was blocking the one exit. And because it was so well hidden it meant that the librarian couldn’t see if he was in trouble either. He had thought of that when he was first moving the bookcases into place but after he had been there for the first month he decided that it was worth the risk.

He had never had anyone find him in his corner before today. And when he had seen Spot, blocking the one exit, he completely panicked. He didn’t know how he found it…

Race allowed himself to elicit a sad sigh knowing he wouldn’t be able to make any other decision. Now that Spot knew where his place was he had no choice but to move… there was too much risk to stay here now. He shook himself out of his slump mentally, checking his phone for the time; he still had 20 minutes of lunch left. He continued his work and finished his paper a few minutes before the bell rung. He packed up his stuff and slung his bag on his shoulder. As he left he gave his book nook one last sad little look – feeling sadness grip at his chest.

How did they figure out a way to take this one little pleasure away from him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally Race's perspective! (I'm sorry he's still sad)  
> Let me know what you think of the perspective shifting!


	5. Chapter 5

The minute he had reached the bottom of the stairs he knew he needed to apologise to Race. He genuinely felt so bad about what he’d done. He didn’t enjoy scaring people. He had just been about to turn back around and go apologise to him when Oscar and Morris had appeared out of the lunch hall that was near the stairs to the library. He knew if he had turned and started walking up the stairs they would have spotted him and followed, and that was the last thing he had wanted.  
He had stoned his face into a blank mask and pretended to be indifferent to everything that had just happened and had walked towards the Delancys.  
“Spot!” Morris had shouted as he got closer, he had wanted to cringe at that – he hated when they did that, they clearly knew he could see them they didn’t need to shout his name. He had given a quick acknowledging smile.  
“How’d it go?” Oscar asked quirking an eyebrow. And that made him pause. He couldn’t tell them about how he was angry with Race, they’d storm up the stairs and beat the shit out of him – and although Spot acted violent he would never want anyone hurt, especially someone who was so lonely as Race seemed to be.  
“It went well.” He shrugged, he didn’t particularly want to talk about it.  
“Conlon, give use the details!” Morris insisted.  
“He don’t trust me completely yet – but you know I have beat him up in the past so you can’t blame ‘im.”   
“I guess.” Oscar shrugged.  
“Don’t be too worried!” He slapped Oscar’s chest, probably a little harder than necessary, “I’ll wear him down eventually.” He sounded believably cruel and it made his stomach churn that that voice capable of coming out of his mouth.  
“Yeah,” Morris backed him up, “that fag will cry eventually.” Oscar had nodded.  
“You guys are right.”

 

Now Spot blinked tiredly as he practically dragged himself up the stairs to the library. He had barely slept all night, Race’s face kept flashing through his mind. He had just looked so frightened. And the lie he had told the Delancys yesterday… he was disgusted with himself that he could be so cruel.

He pushed the door to the library open and walked in. He had prepared a speech for Race and he was prepared for nearly every reaction that Race could have. He was ready for his fear. He was ready for his suspicion. And he knew that he needed to keep his cool and not get angry. Race’s fear of him is not Race’s fault, but his own. He walked through the library, once again ignoring the surprised look from the librarian to Race’s corner. He took a deep breath and walked between the bookcases. He opened his mouth about to start his speech before Race can panic or run but then he realises that he’s alone.  
He is completely alone.  
The corner is empty… with no sign that Race was ever here. He felt his heart drop.

He turned and walked up the librarian behind the desk.  
“Hiya.” He said offering a tiny smile, he didn’t smile at strangers or teachers much but he needed a favour. The librarian raised a sceptical eyebrow at him – he knew why, he knew his reputation. He coughed a little awkwardly, “have you seen Antonio?” He asked her.  
“Why?” She asked, venom seeping through her words; they both knew what she was thinking. She thought that Spot was seeking him out to hurt or tease him.  
“I want to apologise to him about something.” He said truthfully.  
“Oh. Well I’m sorry, my dear, no I haven’t seen him today.” She obviously was trying to keep her voice neutral, but he could hear the worry in her voice.  
“Oh.” He said, both surprised and dejected, “Okay then.” He said and started walking out the library and down the stairs. He had literally no idea where to go and find him now. Where else would he go?

He sighed deeply and decided that he wanted a cigarette. He knew it was a pointless, expensive and dirty habit and he was trying to stop. He was going quite well, but whenever he got super stressed he itched for one, and right now he thinks he deserves one. He walked through the school and reached the exit door to the front of the school. 

It was pouring down so he huddled under the awning of the school, pulling his jacket closer around his body. It wasn’t particularly cold, but it was reaching winter and it was cold. His eyes scanned the empty playground. He always liked it when it rained. The slight patter or even the loud roar of the rain sounded great and he loved it when the sky was grey. It just gave a nice atmosphere. He knew it was an unpopular opinion but he didn’t care. His eyes were scanning the grey scene in front of him when all of a sudden his eyes met with a figure sitting in a gazebo.

He recoiled at the sight in shock. Why would anyone be sitting outside in this weather? He took another look around the playground and there was most definitely no one else outside. He turned his gaze back to the figure, bringing the cigarette back up to his mouth, he squinted at the figure and managed to see that he was sitting cross legged and sideways on the bench, hunched over whilst writing on a piece of paper. Spot was completely confused… why on earth would someone come outside in this weather to work. He could be working in the dining room or the library?

Then Spot had a sudden realisation. That could only be one student. He squinted harder and saw that his suspicions were correct. Race.

Before he could think he started jogging through the rain towards the gazebo. As he got closer he could see that Race was wrapped up in what looked like two hoodies and a thin coat, some torn woollen gloves on and a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. He reached the steps and bounded in, desperate to get out of the rain.

Race’s head jerked up at the sound, his eyes wide, cheeks pink and his nose red. Upon seeing Spot his face dropped, hard, and Spot knew that he would be seeing that face in his nightmares again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a cliff hanger, but won't be long until the next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

Race was bent over the Spanish paper in front of him, just whizzing through it. The paper kept blowing in the wind and a few drops of rain kept splattering the paper but it didn’t matter too much. He needed to finish this paper now, it was due tomorrow and he wasn’t going to have time to do it at home tonight either.  
He needed to do his work and he couldn’t sit in the library any more, it wasn’t safe, the dining room was out of the question and he refused to be one of those kids that huddles in a teachers room during lunch, so the only place he could think of was the playground. It was too cold for anyone to want to come outside, so he thought he would be safe shivering in his threadbare jackets in the gazebo for a while, at least until he could figure out a new place…

All those thoughts of his being safe flew from his mind when he heard footsteps bound into the gazebo, the sound echoing around the wooden frame. He glanced up and he didn’t know who he expected it to be but he couldn’t believe it when he saw it was Spot, a cigarette between his lips.

He felt his heart drop. Why did Spot keep finding him! His eyes flitted around looking for an escape… Spot was obviously blocking one exit and the gazebo was in the corner of the play ground meaning there was one area in which he could escape. But Race knew that he wouldn’t be able to gather his stuff and outrun Spot. Before he could think he stood up, he wanted to look angry, but he knew he probably looked more terrified.  
“What do you want!” The words slipped and he could hear the desperation in his voice. He wanted Spot to do whatever he was going to do and get it over with so he could be alone again.  
“Wait, wait, wait.” Spot said to him holding up a hand. “Don’t go. I just wanted to say sorry.” Race’s hands dropped to his side, and though he didn’t relax he definitely was shocked.  
“What?” He asked dumbly, making Spot look down before looking back up to look Race in the eye.  
“I wanted to say I’m sorry. About yesterday. I shouted at you for no reason and I unfairly interrupted your lunch and your… corner.” That made Race blink, how could he possibly know about how important his book nook was to him. He mentally shook himself, trying to get back on track - he needed to pay attention. “And I wanted to say sorry because I’m really, truly sorry.” There was a moment of silence before Spot jumped as if forgetting himself; “Also you don’t have to accept or say it’s okay if you don’t want to.” There was another moment of silence as Spot took a seat on the opposite side of the small gazebo, still looking at Race and bringing the cigarette to his lips. Race caught himself staring at the cigarette, the smoke smelled amazing. He caught himself.  
“What is this?” he asked suspiciously, he gave a quick look over his shoulder expecting to see the Delancys ready to pounce, but he saw nobody, he looked back to Spot.  
“It’s an apology.” Spot shrugged as if it were just a matter of fact, making Race frown.  
“No.” He shook his head, “I mean what are you doing? Why are you pretending to be nice to me? Pretending to be trying to be my friend?” His eyes flick to the cigarette in Spot’s hand, he was so tense and he was really craving.  
“It’s not an act!” Spot exclaimed though not violently, gesturing with the cigarette, “I want to be your friend.” He said, no hint of a lie in his tone but still Race didn’t believe him.  
“Why?” He asked strongly, almost wanting to cross his arms. He wasn’t being self-deprecating but this whole friendship crusade had come out of no where and there was literally no advantage for Spot in doing this… or at least not one he could figure out. Spot sighed;  
“Look. Why don’t you sit down and we can chat.” Spot suggested gently, raising an eyebrow. Race hesitated for a second but chose to sit, still completely tense. As he sat his eyes flicked to the cigarette in Spot’s hand once again.

Suddenly, Spot offered him the packet.  
“You want one?” he asked casually, as if he were asking a friend, not like he was offering a cigarette to the guy that he once beat up and looked down upon every day. Race knew he should decline, based on principal, but he was desperate and he couldn’t afford them anymore so maybe having a free one – then a thought crossed his mind; maybe this was trick?  
“What do you want for one?” He asked, sitting coiled like a spring. Spot frowned,  
“Jesus Christ. Nothing.” He said, packet still offered out to him. Race moved to take one and hesitated, fingers almost touching the packet. Spot shook the packet at him, telling him to take one now or not at all. Refusing himself the opportunity to think about it more Race just took one. Fuck it… if he was going to get beaten up one way or another he might at least get a cigarette out of it.  
“You trying to quit or something?” Spot asked throwing the lighter at him gently, which Race caught gracefully and gratefully. He shook his head as he lighted his cigarette and threw it back to Spot. He shrugged, “Just asking ‘cause you hesitated is all. I’m trying to quit.”   
“Good luck.” Race nodded at him, loving the feeling of having a cigarette between his fingers again. Despite the cigarette Race was still really tense, he didn’t understand what was happening.  
“Didn’t know you smoked, when’d you start?” Spot asked, clearly trying desperately to find a common topic.  
“When I was young.” Race replied vaguely, not wanting to spill his daddy problems all over his bully. Spot could clearly sense the reluctances in his voice and stopped questioning. There was a moment of awkward silence.

“Why are you trying to be my friend?” Race asked, he wanted to air quotes around ‘friend’, but an idea had just hit him, if he played along to whatever scheme that Spot had planned then he wouldn’t be upset when the Delancys jumped out a bush to beat him. He was going to get beaten up anyway, it was inevitable, he might as well try and get a few free cigarettes before that happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the chapter is shorter (sorry about that)  
> But things are finally hotting up!  
> The slow burn is starting to warm up a little. Here we go guys, strap yourselves in.


	7. Chapter 7

The directness of the question made Spot pause, shocked. He knew that Race was intelligent and he found it hard to believe that Race had gone from being too scared to take a cigarette to genuinely thinking that Spot was trying to be his friend in a matter of seconds. It was clear that Race had trust issues, completely closing himself off from any of Spot’s attempts to small talk, so would he really suddenly believe him? Spot was doubtful, but it’s best not to question it too much – play along. He tried to ignore the rush of confusion and shock that hit him and shrugged half-heartedly;  
“I don’t know.” Race let out a sarcastic laugh.  
“That’s a great reason.” He mumbled.  
“Well, I don’t know, you just seem to be alone most the time and I thought that you could use a friend. And…” He paused for a second, thinking of what to say next, “I would like a friend also. I don’t really have any friends and I thought maybe we could… try?” He shrugged. He hadn’t planned for this. Hadn’t thought that he’d even get this far. He realised how stupid that must have sounded when Race looked up from his lap and raised a quizzical eyebrow. Spot could almost hear him thinking; ‘is that seriously the best that you can come up with?’. He wanted the earth to swallow him up, but the words were in the air now. Nothing he could do about it. There was a beat of silence and Spot realised that Race wasn’t going to say anything and his mouth started running away without his permission again.  
“Look. I know I’m ‘friends’ with the Delancys,” He put air quotes around friends. Race snorted at that but he decided to continue; “but I actually really don’t like them. You know how it is. You do what you have to to survive. And the Delancys help me survive. You seem alone and I don’t look alone but I feel it. So I thought maybe we could give it a shot.” That was it, Spot had just lay the truth bare in front of Race. Whether or not Race believed him was another matter but Spot knew that it was the truth and he felt vulnerable. He had been wearing a skin of lies for so long, now that he was back in his true skin, it felt wrong, like an old shirt that’s just a little too tight or short now. But the shirt still smelt the same and brought back happy memories, and despite Spot’s new skin sitting funny on his body he found he was more comfortable than he had been in ages.

He took a breath and Race was staring at him. Face blank. Spot realised that there was a weight lifted off his shoulders that he didn’t even know had been there. It felt good to finally say the truth out loud.   
“Right.” Race said back, his voice completely monotone and disbelieving. “So. You’re telling me that you’ve suddenly decided that you don’t want to be friends with the most powerful people in school, people who just so happen to also find joy in sadistic past times, and you want to be friends with little old me.” His voice became more hysterical as he spoke before turning into a laugh. Spot stared shocked as Race’s laughter died off. “No.” Race said flicking his cigarette, “I don’t believe you.”  
“I know it seems… unlikely.” Spot started but got cut off by a sharp bark of a laugh from Race.  
“Yeah. It does. Have you forgotten that you’ve beaten me up or have I just faded into the many cases of assault that are just a common day thing for you?”

“Race…” He wanted to defend himself but he knew it was futile. His actions were inexcusable. He could never forget what he did to Race. He would never be able to look at Race without seeing the pleading, scared face with the split lip. “I’m sorry. That’s not me. I don’t hurt people. I don’t! Not by choice!”  
“Oh! How lovely. I’m special. Wonderful.” Race’s voice was full of venom. His posture tense, but his face filled with red hot fury. The words hurt but it was no less than he deserved.   
“No.” Spot shook his head, this wasn’t going well. “No I didn’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you or anyone else. It’s just… survival.” Race nodded but there was no understanding on his face, rage still possessing his still features. He brought the cigarette back up to his mouth and took a long drag, chest heaving from rage, Spot’s own cigarette burned out a while ago.  
“Give me a chance Race. I haven’t lied to you at all, I swear. Give me a chance. Please. I won’t disappoint you.”  
“Fine.” Race said, sucking the last bit of life out of his cigarette and dropping it onto the floor dejectedly. Spot knew that anything he said now would just undo any progress he had just made. He stood and reached into his pocket and threw the pack of cigarettes at Race and caught he them. Looking up at Spot in surprise.  
“Like, I said. I’s trying to quit.” He shrugged. “See ya around.” He turned quickly and ran out the gazebo running as fast as he could to get out of the rain. 

His chest felt lighter. He had finally told someone the truth. He had finally done a good thing for someone. Finally was his real, kind self.  
But as he got under the roof of the school, the cold wet seeping in through his clothes, his heart thumped like someone had just punched him in the chest.  
Through being himself, through being kind, through being honest for the first time in months. He had done the cruellest thing he was capable. He had give Race an honest to God reason to trust him. His truth that he had refused to speak he used to further a lie. The Delancys’ lie!  
He never should have given Race that cigarette. His first act of kindness would make him the biggest villain in Race’s story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally talk! How exciting!  
> (Sorry it's so short as well!)  
> Also I loved writing a sassier Race. This chapter was so much fun to write


	8. Chapter 8

Spot had decided to leave Race alone until Monday the next week, if only to give himself a break. He grabbed his keys, sighing internally, knowing that he was going to have to approach him today. He knew if he left it any longer he would never do it at all and then either the Delancys would kill him or Medda would, and if he was honest he didn’t know which one he was more scared of.  
“See you later, Mom!” He yelled just before slamming the door behind him, and pulling his school mask over his face. It was a good job he did it so early because the Delancy’s car was sitting parked at the end of his driveway. He drew on a small fake smile and headed up the path to the car.  
“Hi?” He said leaning into the window.   
“Come on, get it.” Morris snapped at him gesturing towards the back. He shrugged and decided to get in. Whatever. He spoke as he was buckling his seat belt;  
“Why?”  
“Well we wanted to speak to you, Spotty.” Oscar replied, making Spot’s blood run cold, this could only be about one thing. “What’s going on with the fag?” Spot wanted to roll his eyes at the slur, he never understood being mean to people based on the way they were born, but he pushed that instinct down.  
“It’s been going good.”  
“Oh, really?” Oscar snapped back, “because to us… it seems like you’ve been slacking and doing pretty much nothing.” There was venom in his tone and Spot knew he had to play this right. Not for his sake, but more for Race’s. If they think their plan isn’t going to work the first thing they will do when they get to school is find Race and drag him round the back and kick the shit out of him.

Spot suddenly realised that his first worry fell to Race, not himself. If they Delancys beat him up, Race will never be his friend and Medda will follow through on her promise.

In that scary moment Spot suddenly realised that he genuinely cared about Race. But he couldn’t think about right now.

“What?” He snapped indignantly back at them, “Are you fucking kidding? I don’t see either one of you havin’ to try an’ entertain this annoying, paranoid little shit. He is so scared of me,” He paused to give a little sadistic laugh before continuing, “that isn’t an easy thing to forget. Do you want to do this properly or half ass it, because if we half ass it there is no way it’ll have the same impact that we want it to.” He paused, “Look I know what I’m doing. Just let me do what I need to do and I’ll deliver him to you on a silver platter.” He sat in a fuming silence.   
“Fine. Whatever. Just be away, Spotty, we want results.”  
“Yeah, yeah.” Spot waved Oscar off and sat in silence for the rest of the ride, staring out of the window. Dreading what he knew was coming up.

They arrived at school and he just knew that this day was going to get worse and worse. He had Spanish first and he hated it. He sighed inwardly and walked into the class. He just fucking hated this room.

He flung himself into his chair and stared at the board and he knew before the teacher started talking he wasn’t going to understand any of this. 

Suddenly, Race walked into the classroom, making him subconsciously sit up straighter in shock. Race was in this class? They had been in the same class all this time and he hadn’t even noticed. He watched him out of the corner of his eye as Race, with his head tucked into his neck, looking at the floor, shuffled his way down the wall to the back row and sat down. The only thing he could think was that he was super glad that Oscar and Morris didn’t take Spanish right now.

Throughout the class Spot tried his hardest to understand what the teacher was saying but when he started, inevitably struggling, his mind wandered to Race’s silent presence at the back of the class. A few times he flitted his eyes behind him to look at Race and to his complete surprise Race just seemed to be flying through the work, to the point that when he flicked his eyes back to him with 20 minutes left in the lesson Race had finished the work and had pulled out his sociology work book. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

The class finished and Spot swept all of his things into his backpack and turned intending to go up to Race and start talking to him. When he stood and turned around however he was taken aback by surprise when he saw that Race was just gone. His things were gone and there was absolutely no sign of him anywhere. Spot turned to look at the door to maybe see Race leaving, but no. He was completely gone. Spot shook off his surprise and made a mental note to see him later. At least now he had something to break the ice with, something that surely Race wouldn’t object to talking about.

He left the room and started his walk to his next class and was unfortunately joined by Oscar who was in his next lesson.  
“How’s it going with him?” It was clear from Oscar’s tone who exactly ‘him’ was.  
“I have a plan.” Spot replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo! An update. After a super long time (whoops, my bad) but I still hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

Race looked down at the packet of cigarettes in his hand. He was shocked; offering him one cigarette out of a faked politeness is one thing giving him the packet is another. He had never expected that. He flipped the lid open and saw that there was only 3 missing from the full pack. Spot had basically just given him a full packet of cigarettes.

He glanced up expecting to see something. He wasn’t sure what. He thought he might see Spot’s figure slinking away into the school again or even running through the rain. He thought that this is when the Delancys would jump out and soak him.

But he was all alone.

He pulled out his old phone to check the time and saw that he had a message from Albert. He smiled feeling his heart warm a little but he pushed that down. He opened it.  
“just found this song you should listen to.” It was followed by a youtube link making Race smile in anticipation. He always loved the songs that Albert sent to him so he made mental note to listen to it later. He switched his phone off and put it back in his pocket, following it with the pack of cigarettes, and then rubbing his hands together trying to inspire a little heat in them. He started stuffing his things into his bag before running inside for the last class of the day.  
+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+__+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_  
He walked home as fast as he could, knowing that he needed to get home as soon as possible if he wanted to eat before his lesson. On the way home he contemplated Spot and what exactly he was trying to do. He was running every scenario he could think of through his head.  
Well, the first and obvious one is that Spot is working for the Delancys who are trying to break him emotionally. Spot is trying to be his friend so that when he hurts him later it will hurt more.  
Or Spot could be being blackmailed.

As he walked his brain kept running scenarios and he seriously couldn’t think of any other reason why Spot was trying to be friends with him. As he reached his little bungalow it was if his brain had just been punched as the thought ran through his head; maybe he actually wants to be your friend.

The thought only existed for a moment before he actually wanted to punch the stupidity out of his system. He physically shook his head to rid the thought from his brain. 

He pulled his key out of his pocket and unlocked the door stepping into his house. He was halfway kicking his shoes off when he realised that something was wrong. He could hear his portable heater in the living room switched on with some low music playing.  
“Hello?” He asked out loud, his heart in his mouth.  
“Only me!” A voice shouted from the living room. He felt himself deflate with relief. Davey.

He walked into the living room to see Davey sat on his sofa, bent over with his hand on the coffee table painting his nails. Race felt a smile grab his face at the sight.  
“What colour is it today?” He asked throwing his bag onto the floor before flopping down next to Davey of the sofa.  
“Blue.” Race nodded falling silent, just letting his body relax and enjoy being close to someone safe.  
“You know my whole evening is full of lessons tonight.”  
“I know.” Davey shrugged, “Don’t worry about it. I thought you’d enjoy just having someone here.” He said leaning into Race a little. All of his friends knew that he was bullied but they didn’t really speak about it much and while Race had never told them he was extremely lonely they all knew. He felt his heart warm every single time one of them did something small like this, coming to join him even though they knew he couldn’t entertain them.  
“Thanks, Davey.”  
“Don’t worry about it.” Davey looked at him smiling, “but I am starving can I have food?”  
“Yeah of course!” Race said standing up, “I’m going to just make a quick stir fry is that cool with you?”  
“Yeah whatever works.”

He nodded and went into the kitchen and opened his fridge. He sighed as he was met with an almost empty fridge. He was always running low. He pulled out a few vegetables most of them half used. He made his stir fry as quickly as he could and walked back into the living room with two small bowls of noodles and veg.  
“Thanks, Race.” Davey said gratefully having switched on the TV, now finished his nails, taking the hot bowl.  
“It’s fine. Thanks for coming over.”  
“Don’t worry about it.”  
“What are we watching?” Race asked, already knowing the answer.  
“RuPaul’s drag race. Did you expect anything different?” He laughed.  
“No.” Race laughed back. They both sat back against the sofa offering their scathing judgements of the looks on the runway. Race hadn’t had so much fun in ages, that was until his alarm on his phone went off.  
“Shit!” He exclaimed putting his almost empty bowl on the coffee table.  
“What?”  
“My lesson starts in 5 minutes.” Race said jumping up and running to the other side of the room to grab his laptop.  
“Can I stay?”  
“Yeah.” Race said as he was logging onto his laptop. “You just can’t watch TV or talk to me.”  
“That’s chill, I’ll do my homework.”  
“Thanks.” Race said gratefully.

He logged into the lesson space a few seconds before the start time to see his student already sitting.  
“Hola, cómo estás?” He asked smiling, sorting through his papers.  
“Bien. Qué vamos a hacer hoy?” He glanced up at the screen to make digital eye contact with her.  
“Pues. Creo que debemos hacer conjugación.”  
*****  
The lessons went quick enough. He normally starts with the younger students and ends with the older students. He finally shut his laptop lid at 10.30 with a tired sigh. He stretched his arms out cracking his elbows. 

He cast a look over his shoulder to see Davey curled up on the sofa, the cute sight making him chuckle. He stood up, grabbing a blanket off the single seater chair and gently throwing it over Davey’s body.  
“Thanks Antonio.” Davey snuggled deeper into the sofa sleepily.  
“Antonio?” Race laughed in question.  
“Yeah. You a Spanish boy.” Davey chuckled, “I like hearing tu espanol.” He said completely butchering the words. “You’re so clever. Being able to speak like two whole languages.”  
“Yeah yeah.” Race laughed, smiling at Davey’s sleepy compliments. “You’re staying tonight.” He said, no room for discussion. It was too late for Davey to be walking home alone.  
“Thanks Race.”  
“No problem.” He said as he left the room switched the light off.

He went to his bedroom down the hall and all but collapsed on the bed, completely exhausted. He plugged his phone in to charge and opened the text from Albert and clicked the link. The song started playing softly as he pulled off his jeans and pulled on a soft sleep shirt.

He tucked himself into bed, snuggling down as best he could trying to warm the cool sheets. He stared at the light of the screen listening to the song in the darkness smiling. Albert knew him so well, he loved the song.

The song finished and he closed his eyes and so finished his day also.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this was an adventure.  
> I write chapters in advance and I'm running out of chapters so sorry for the late upload guys!  
> But as well I uploaded chapter 9 before chapter 8, so last chapter was supposed to be after this. I'm pretty sure it's not disrupted anything too badly, but Just in case any one wants to be super anal about this story that was the original order.  
> My bad, but I guess you live and learn.
> 
> Hope you guys are okay with that and let me know if something doesn't make sense!  
> And I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'm pretty sure its my fav so far.


	10. Chapter 10

Spot knew that it was probably a long shot but he didn’t really have another idea where else Race would be and given that it was one of the coldest days of the year he didn’t think that he would be outside again, so Spot found himself climbing the stairs to the library again. He pushed the heavy doors to the library open and was met with the usual silence of a high school library during lunch. He smiled at the librarian, who he was starting to think had a perpetual expression of surprise stuck on her face, and walked past her desk heading for Race’s nook.

As he got closer he could hear hushed talking and he felt his blood run cold. His mind starting running through all of his memories concerning Race and he could never remember him ever having friends, meaning that he could only be talking to someone who wanted trouble. He was about to storm into the corner and beat the shit out of whoever it was threatening Race, when he reminded himself to calm down. It couldn’t get to Medda that he had been causing trouble, so he took a deep breath and a moment to calm himself and as the rushing of adrenaline in his ears stopped he was able to hear the words. It was Race talking;  
“I have loads of lessons tonight, but I’d love it if you came over.” He was met with complete silence. “Shall we invite Davey?” Once again he was met with silence and it occurred to Spot that he was on the phone. “Alright. See you later, Al.” His voice was light and elated. He had never heard Race so happy before and he hesitated for a moment, reluctant to ruin this moment.

He stopped for a moment and considered by he finally came to the conclusion that if he didn’t do it now, he would never talk to Race. He shook himself to get the last few bits of adrenaline out of his system and tried to make himself the picture of calm and approachable. Something that’s not so easy when you’re so muscled and intimidating, but he thought his efforts were pretty successful. He quickly round the corner to walk into the little right angle where Race was sat the table bent over his Spanish homework that they had been given today. He was almost finished.   
“Hey.” He said lightly, pulling the chair out on the opposite side of the table before taking a seat.   
“Hey.” Race said, an audible guard in that one word, and Spot felt a strange yearning to hear the same of kind of affection in Race’s voice that he heard on the phone dictated towards him, but it would take time.  
“I didn’t know that we were in the same Spanish class y’know.” Spot opened his prepared ‘casual’ conversation. “How weird that I haven’t noticed you.” He laughed a little and Race raised a judging eyebrow.  
“You didn’t notice me because you’re not supposed to.” He had a sassy tone lacing the words, and despite the fact that Spot liked this new sassy Race, his laugh came to an abrupt halt at his words.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The words had no malice, he was legitimately confused about what that was supposed to mean.  
“It means I’m quiet on purpose because I don’t want people to notice me.” Race all but snapped at him. And despite Race’s tone being completely malignant and intending to hurt Spot was elated that Race was willing to loosen up to speak so freely to him. This was a massive improvement compared to the trembling mess that was Race on their first encounter. He was getting used to him and it could only get better from here. 

Spot opened his mouth to respond but he realised that there was nothing to say in return to that because overall it was Spot’s own actions that led to Race acting that way. Thankfully Race decided to fill the silence, and it probably was more out of his own curiosity rather than to spare Spot the awkward silence.  
“Why today?”  
“What?” Spot frowned a little in confusion, making Race sigh a little, dropping his pen and looking up from his paper to look Spot in the eye.  
“Why did you notice me today?”  
“Well… because you’re my friend now and I was looking for you. I noticed you were doing Spanish work last week in the gazebo, so I figured that we might be in the same class.”  
“Oh.” Race responded, and he had seemed to run out of things to say, but Spot did notice that he didn’t question him saying that they were friends, maybe that was a good sigh. As not to draw attention to the friend statement he decided to quickly move the conversation on.   
“Do you like Spanish?”  
“Yeah.” Race’s tone was completely ambivalent. This was not how Spot had imagined this prepared conversation.   
“Well… I mean I saw that you finished your work pretty quickly. Are you good at it?”  
“I suppose.” He shrugged a little before picking his pen up and continuing the Spanish work.  
“You suppose!” He laughed in a good natured jovial way. “Man, that work was next to impossible and you flew through it like it was in English!” Race didn’t look up at him, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. “I mean… I’ve glanced at the homework and I already know I’m not going to be able to do it and you’ve practically finished it in, what, 20 minutes?” He paused and Race glanced up, still clearly not sure what he can say. Spot suddenly was struck with a genius movie.  
“Look, Race, I don’t want to pressure you but could you… maybe help me with the homework.” He felt his face heat up with embarrassment. He always hated asking for help and avoided it at all costs, but this was perfect. 

If Race helped him with his Spanish it would give them a way to start a natural dialogue. Race might even relax if he’s placed in the role of teaching something he’s clearly very good at. And maybe, just maybe, Spot may actually improve, which would be great at helping him get into college.

He was met with silence and he could feel his blush worsening with every second.  
“I mean… I don’t have tons of spare time, but sure.” Race shrugged. An uncertain tone had found his voice once again, but Spot didn’t let that deter him.   
“Thanks, Race. That really means so much to me. Honestly.” He was going to keep jabbering but Race waved his hand at him casually, so Spot stopped talking.  
“Go on them.” Race said as he lent into his bag to pull out his water bottle and take a sip.  
“What?” Spot asked confused.  
“Get your sheet out if you want help?” Race raised an eyebrow at him.   
“Oh. Now?” He asked surprised that Race wanted to do this now.  
“Yeah.” He shrugged and Spot jumped to it, pulling his back pack onto his lap and pulling the sheet out before flattening the creases on the table.

Race stood and moved into the chair next to Spot so they were no longer opposite one another, surprising Spot even further. He could feel that Race was tense, but Spot would take small victories. Maybe this was going to work. Maybe Race would become his friend.

Race handed him a pen, without Spot even asking for one. And in that moment Race completely forgot all the treachery surrounding their growing ‘friendship’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just because the other chapter took so long here's a make up chapter


	11. Chapter 11

Race clicked his pen and immediately felt himself fall into teacher mode. He had to be careful. He was still extremely tense. He knew from a year of teaching experience that people can get very emotional when they don’t understand thing. The only difference is that with teaching online the worst a person can do is angrily log off the session, but here Spot could physically grab him and physically hurt him. Not to mention that Spot was super volatile person anyway. 

On top of that Race had no idea of Spot’s level of Spanish. Like at all. They were in the same class but if Spot is struggling as badly as he is saying he is then he might be below the average level of the class. Plus Race knew that he was obviously much more advanced than the rest of the class so could he even accurately predict the average of the class, considering he wasn’t always paying attention? He didn’t want to go in too fast and leave Spot behind because then he may become frustrated because Race is going to fast or making him look like an idiot. He didn’t want Spot interpreting what he says or does as Race portraying that he thinks he’s better than Spot. That would definitely lead to Race being in some form of pain. But at the same time he didn’t want to come across as condescending either, because then Spot may say that he thinks he’s stupid and then he would be hurt for that. He didn’t know which was worse.

To say the least Race was extremely nervous. He had to play this right.

He quickly decided it would be better to go slow rather than face and start really easy. The sheet was a reading comprehension and a small essay based on the reading. Right. First he needed to help Spot through the comprehension.  
“Do you want me to talk in English or Spanish?” He asked gently, this would maybe give him an idea of Spot’s level. Spot paused clearly thinking about which he would prefer.  
“I don’t know.” Spot whispered, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.  
“Okay.” Race responded, fully in teacher mode now, “how about this; I’ll say it in Spanish and then if you don’t understand I’ll repeat it in English?” He suggested. Spot seemed to contemplate it for a moment.  
“Speak slowly, though? Okay?”  
“Yeah.” Race smiled at him encouragingly.  
“Entonces. Has leído el artículo?” He said pointing that the comprehensive article at the top of the homework page. Spot paused, trying to figure out what exactly Race had said before reluctantly translating.  
“Have I… read… the article?” He asked with uncertainly palpable in his words.  
“Yeah!” Race exclaimed smiling.  
“No.” He responded.

When Race had started he thought that this would be extremely hard to help Spot, being so worried about it and sitting so close to someone so dangerous, but within moments Spot morphed from his bully into his student and Race found himself heavily in an area which he knew how to manipulate. His only goal was to help Spot learn.

He surprised himself by even relaxing a little during the lesson. He stopped worrying about how Spot would interpret every single one of his words and just started teaching. Before Race even realised it lunch had finished and the warning bell had rung. He glanced up and remembered where he was. The library had morphed mentally into his living room, but even though now he suddenly remembered where he was and who he was teaching his relaxed body and mind remained. Fear didn’t suddenly regrip his heart.   
“Damn.” Spot muttered.  
“What?” Race decided to speak solely English now that lunch, or Spot’s session, had ended.  
“Just… we didn’t get to finish the work.” He actually sounded really dejected.   
“I know, but you were doing super well.” Race said, standing up to start putting his things away in his bag. “Plus I think Spanish is one of the hardest subject you can do and honestly you’re not as bad at it as you think you are.” Spot laughed.  
“That’s not what my test results say.” And although the laugh implied that Spot was joking there was a clear bitterness below the surface, so Race decided not to comment. “How are you so good at Spanish?” Spot asked, and to be honest it was a fair question, but it did put Race on the defensive. He always but up barriers between his parental situation and other people, but there wasn’t really a way he could dodge the question without causing more curiosity.  
“My parents used to speak it in the house.” He said shrugging before quickly moving the subject along. “Hey, you didn’t get to each lunch.” His tone apologetic.  
“No it’s fine. I’ll have a chocolate bar on the way to next period.” Spot said pulling a chocolate bar out of his bag. “Anyway, I should be the one apologising. I came and sat with you.”  
“Don’t worry about it.” He waved him off, zipping up his bag, “I don’t really eat lunch at school anyways.” He pulled the bag onto his back and froze. 

He just offered information about himself completely freely, without even being prompted. He could feel the blood run out of his face. Had he said too much. Would Spot figure out his home situation. Oh my God. If the Delancys, or even anyone at school, found out that he lived alone the torments would never stop. What if they realised that he lived alone and found his bungalow and then broke in and stole everything. Or worse, what if they broke in when Davey was there alone they would kill him. Or what if they broke in while he was teaching one of his students. The lesson would be interrupted and their parents may complain. He would loose students. He wouldn’t be able to pay the bills. He would end up on the streets. This was the end.

He didn’t realise that his breathing had sped up until Spot put a hand on his shoulder and was worriedly calling his name. His blurred vision snapped back into a cruel clarity and he could feel his chest heaving uneven, shallow breaths.   
“Race, what’s happening? Do I need to get the librarian?” He asked pointing behind him. Race shook his head.  
“No.” He practically whispered, he could feel himself sweating. “No. I’m okay.” 

Spot paused and raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him.  
“Are you sure. You were gone for a moment.”  
“Yeah. I’m fine. Please just leave.” He needed Spot gone. He wanted to be alone. He needed to be alone.  
“Race. I’m not sure you should be alone right now.”  
“Please.” He said quietly and he could see Spot hesitate, contemplating what to do. “Spot. Seriously. Leave me alone.” Spot nodded silently, swinging his bag onto his back.  
“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, Racer.” 

Race replayed those last words over in his head at least a hundred times and was shocked when he could hear no hint or tone of a threat. He really didn’t understand what was going on here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so if I'm being honest I'm not loving this story. I'm thinking of putting it on hiatus. I have a few more chapters but I'm really unsure of it. I have ideas it's just a chore to write at the moment.


End file.
